


Your Lonely Company Held a World Away

by bugles



Series: Eternity Again [1]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, Dark, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, Reincarnation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-14
Updated: 2018-01-14
Packaged: 2019-03-04 22:11:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,208
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13374105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bugles/pseuds/bugles
Summary: In the end, it’s only him and Keyleth. Scanlan’s hair is a patchy gray. His grandchildren have grandchildren, and Kaylie has been dead longer than she had a chance to live.





	Your Lonely Company Held a World Away

In the end, it’s only him and Keyleth. Scanlan’s hair is a patchy gray. His grandchildren have grandchildren, and Kaylie has been dead longer than she had a chance to live.

Keyleth wraps an arm around his shoulders to pull him next to her. It’s easy to take in the beauty of Zephrah from the mountain top. The firelight, the golds and blues of the city flags, errant magic explosions and the laughter of children caught in the wind.

“I don’t want to die,” he says.

“It’s alright,” Keyleth replies, her arm a warm comfort around him. “I always knew there was a chance I would be the last one of us to go. Thank you for staying with me so long, Scanlan.”

He swallows, heavy enough that it hurts his throat.

He had nearly killed himself to save Pike. _Wish_  had worked initially, improving his and Pike’s quality of life, but it hadn’t prolonged their actual lifespan. He had a chance to say goodbye to her though, which is more than he had with Percy or Grog.

There was still one other option, although Scanlan had avoided using it until he knew there was little time left for him in this world.

He takes a deck of cards out of his satchel, wondering how harshly Ioun will judge him for this. He imagines Sprigg wagging a finger.

_“We’re all stories in the end!”_

Maybe she’ll forgive him. Maybe she’ll intervene if the world ends.

Keyleth catches his eye. Immediately her lips part, eyes growing wide--  

_“Scanlan!”_

He pulls a card.

\---

Scanlan gasps, scrambling up and breathing in shallow gulps of air.

He had been sitting beside Keyleth at the cliffside. They had spoken about the future, and about their friends who had long since passed. About Vax finally having company in his eternal rest—

A rustling of blankets. A hand rests on his shoulder.

“What’s wrong?”

A tired voice. A tattered coat.

Scanlan stares at the man before him, watching as he pushes orange-brown hair from his eyes.

“You were screaming, little one.”

_That voice._

It takes Scanlan a moment to comprehend. Then the picture of where he is and who he is falls into place in small, blurry increments.

“Vax?” He whispers, voice unnaturally high with fright.

“Is that one of your friends, little one?”

Scanlan stares and nods and nothing feels right about any of this.

“It was just a nightmare. You’re alright now. Nothing will happen to you like it did to this friend of yours, alright?”

It takes Scanlan another beat to realize he’s clutching this man’s arm. He belatedly notices his own hand is covered in bandages, traveling beneath his sleeves and up his arm. Nails still peak through his fingers, appearing unnaturally sharp.

He lets go slowly, drawing back as the room comes into focus, his breathing too quick and too loud.

He is at the foot of this man’s bed. Maybe he had gone to sleep here, like some animal huddled for warmth, because Caleb had been so good to him, he wouldn’t want to impose—

 _Caleb_. That was this man’s name.

He tries to squeak the word out, but finds himself choking. A few tears escape him as his heart rate finally begins to slow.

It’s like a crash, coming off a bad trip with suude.

He is so young. He doesn’t remember being this young.

“Vax,” he tries again. “ _Please_.”

The hand moves to his back.

“I’m afraid I can’t bring him to you, little one. Is there anything else I could do?”

“Caleb? Sorry, I can’t --  I can’t remember anymore.”

And then he can’t.

Caleb smiles, a small empathetic look on him.

“That’s probably for the best. You look white enough you wouldn’t even need the mask. C’mon Nott. Let’s get some green back in those cheeks.”

Scanlan touches his cheek. Nott, he’s – she’s a girl. She’s always been a girl.

 _Where’s Kaylie?_ She wonders. _Where’s my daughter?_

“Caleb, I don’t feel well. I think I need to—“  
  
Nott leans over the side of the bed and dry heaves while Caleb holds her hair back. He tries to sooth her with some nonsense but Nott can only imagine another man haunting her, with black wings and dark hair, a different accent.

She pulls herself upright when the nausea passes, limp against Caleb’s chest. She turns her nose toward him.

“I found you,” she mutters, and Caleb rubs small circles on her back.

“I’m still here,” he says in return. “I’ll be here as long as you need me. You know that.”

Nott, exhausted, lets her eyes drift closed.

“I’ve always needed you,” she says. “I’ve only just remembered.”

\---

“Oh dear,” says Sprigg, turning to Ioun as he holds an open book to his chest. “Mistress…?”

“Yes, Ethrid?”

The elderly woman, beautiful with long white hair, appears in front of him. A gentle smile crosses her lips as she watches one of her favored gnome champions looking particularly harried.

Sprigg clears his throat.

“I was reading through Champion Scanlan’s life story and, well, came upon something rather unusual.”

“What is it, my Champion?”

Timidly, Sprigg steps forward and presents the open book to her.

“I had reached the end of his final life chapter, when suddenly this little goblin girl appeared out of thin air! It’s truly extraordinary. She’s added hundreds of pages to the book already. I’ve never seen such a thing happen before. And you know I have read nearly every gnome’s story in the past decade!”

Ioun gently lifts the book from Sprigg’s hands to investigate the story herself.

A moment of silence passes before Ioun hums a note of recognition.

“He is hurting no one but himself,” she says, a soft sadness to her voice as she traces the sentences of Nott’s last spoken words.

“My Lady?” Sprigg wrings his hands together. “Should we do something?”

“I’m afraid we cannot. He should have come to me for help. That was foolish of him. He should have come to me in death. My Champion…”

She touches the words on the page. The narrative slows, the racing lines of internalized panic reaching a more languid pace of composure.

“He is one book,” Ioun tells Sprigg, “…with two lives. If he wishes to start again, that magic is beyond my control. I have dampened his memories of his life as my Champion.”

Sprigg seems both rattled and completely enthralled, eyes wide and glued to her.

“If I may ask -- why so, my lady?”

“To take away his pain,” she murmurs, returning the book back to Sprigg. The text has crawled to a halt. Nothing noteworthy appears now, indicating a lapse in conscious thought. Sprigg scans across the most recent paragraph.

“To remember a past life is to seek it out again,” Ioun tells him. “He has already found one of the lost souls he searches for. He will be happier this way, loving who she is meant to love without preconception.”

“She?” Sprigg repeats, a slow blink. “Do you mean – he is truly –“

Ioun smiles at him and reaches out a hand for him to hold. “Come with me, Ethrid. Let’s have a cup of tea while I tell you the true story of Nott the Brave.”

**Author's Note:**

> Title inspired by Purity Ring’s song, “Begin Again”
> 
>  
> 
> _Is it Thursday yet?_


End file.
